One of the Boys
by Rockstar with a Vendetta
Summary: One-Shot. Set at the end of First Test. The boys discuss Kel when they think she will have to leave.


**Second fanfic...fairly short, but it gets its point across.**

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The mess hall was quiet for a moment as the king and training-master exchanged places at the lectern. The only movement was that of the pages, rising even as the door closed behind the king. Lord Wyldon cleared his throat.

"I know you all wish to pack. Get to it. Keladry of Mindelan, report to my office at the next bell."

"I'm sorry," whispered Merric. He got up awkwardly and fled the room.

"You saved my life," Seaver added, his voice cracking. He hugged her one-armed around the head as if she were one of the boys, and followed Merric out.

None of the other boys moved. With an obvious reluctance, Kel picked up her tray and whispered, "Have a good summer." They watched her slowly take her things to the servants for what was to be the last time and trudge out of the hall.

"It's not _fair_," Neal cried passionately, banging the table with his fists hard enough people around them turned and stared. He took immediate exception. "Don't look at me like that!"

"Really, she's just as good as a boy," Cleon said, uncharacteristically glum. He propped his elbows up on the table, chin cupped pensively in his hands. "I mean, she never complains about running errands, even when they're just plain ridiculous. And I make up a _lot_ of them, Mithros knows."

"I used to think Kel thought she was better than us," Esmond confessed, idly tracing shapes on the tabletop. "With her fancy Yamani moves and stuff. But she didn't, you know, think she was better than us. She just, you know, knew what she was doing, knew what she wanted—"

"It's not like she's _dead_, Nicoline," Faleron said dryly. "You don't have to refer to her in past tense."

"She's righteous," Roald ventured solemnly. It was the only word he could think of, although it was not really the one he was looking for. "She's not prejudiced, and she sticks up for others."

Even as the other boys nodded their agreement, Neal dissented, slowly shaking his head. "No—no, it's not really _righteousness_. When I think righteous, I think of some stuffy old priest. Not Kel. She's, she's—" His eyes searched the air in front of him. "She _cares_. She doesn't just do something because it's right, because it's what a knight's supposed to do, she does it because she _wants_ to." He sighed. "I respect some ten-year-old girl more than many of my university peers."

"Let's go to your room and talk," Cleon said, glaring at a table across the mess hall. Smirking, Joren and his cronies stared at them smugly. "They don't even deserve to be in the same room as Kel's name."

Abruptly, the boys cleared the table of their trays and silverware and made their way back to Neal's room, ignoring Joren's quiet chuckle as they passed him. Along the way, they collected Merric and Seaver as they emerged from their rooms; no one mentioned the latter's red eyes. His dark, sensitive face always silently expressed what the other boys could not vocalize.

"She's so patient," Faleron continued, as though they had not just taken a seven-minute pause. He threw himself down on Neal's bed. The other boys took up various positions around the room. "At least, she never shows her impatience. She never yells at me when we're doing a mathematical problem, even when we're on it for hours."

"Or when she's helping us practice," Merric added softly, easily slipping into the conversation.

"Kel would have been a good knight," Roald sighed.

"She's a good sort," Cleon agreed.

"She's a good _friend_," Neal said quietly, and after that, no one said a word.

Then—

"We should go tell Lord Wyldon to let her stay," Seaver announced bravely.

His best friend momentarily forgotten, Neal stared disbelieving at this sudden bit of insanity. "I must get my ears cleaned. I could have sworn I heard you say we should basically _order_ the _Stump_ to _let her stay_." At Seaver's nod, he blinked. "Just march right up to him, will we, and say 'Excuse me, milord, but you should let Kel stay because she's really a good person inside and it would be a real shame if you let her go'—_what is wrong with you_?"

"Maybe the prince—?" Seaver began hopefully. It startled a snort out of Roald.

"Are you saying I should exert some royal influence?" he inquired. "If word got out I tried—tried, mind you, because Wyldon would never listen to me—I would lose every conservative subject's loyalty."

"I'll do it," Cleon chimed. When everyone gazed at him in complete disbelief, he flung his arms open wide, narrowly missing clipping Faleron's jaw. "What? It would be worth it just to see his face."

"You'd risk your very life just to tell him that." It began as a question, but it fell flat as Faleron stared incredulously at the redheaded youth. "I hope you go in armed with a sword and shield, because you'll have to fight your way out of his office."

"I'm going to do it," Seaver declared defiantly. "I owe her my life," he emphasized.

"I'll do it, too," Merric sighed. "I suppose."

Faleron flung his hands up in acquiescence.

There was a rather pregnant silence.

"Oh, al_right_," Neal huffed, although no one had particularly pressured him. "But only because it's _Kel_."

All the boys stood up, save Roald and Esmond. "I can't," the prince said, his voice wistful and quiet. They understood, and Esmond would stay to keep him company.

Just when they were gathering their courage, they heard a shout in the hallway.

"Neal," Kel shouted. "Roald, Seaver, Merric! I can stay! _I can stay_!"

"I don't know what I'm more relieved about," Neal confided to Roald as they all rushed out. "Kel staying, or not having to make out a will at fifteen…"

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**I do so love Neal. Haa...please read and review!**


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